


The Color Red

by rufferto



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bonds, Bottom!Chris, Chris is a Painter, Chris likes to be hurt, Knotting, M/M, Masochism, Romance, Werewolf and human sex, Werewolf shennanigans, dream connection, dub con, mate-biting, petopher, slight BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-02-22 09:34:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13164171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufferto/pseuds/rufferto
Summary: Sorry it's not finished yet. It is meant as a Christmas Present for Slasherfiend.:) One half done! I will try and finish the rest of this next weekend.:):)Synopsis: Chris is a famous Painter, Peter is a student who needs money and a werewolf with a few issues. He's not ready to be tied down.  Peter meets Chris when he poses nude for the Artist after answering an ad in the paper. Naturally accidental Mate-Bites happen and dub con happens.FYI: Peter wanted more chapters. So there are more chapters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SlasherFiend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlasherFiend/gifts).



 The Color Red

Peter didn’t know why he didn’t just take the easy way out. It had been three years now and he’d proven the point to his sister.  He had one year left of university and money was getting really, really tight.  He and his sister Talia made a bet that he couldn’t pay for school on his own merit instead of using their inheritance. She’d challenged him to make his own way in the world and he’d done just that. He had good looks and charm to spare. He was also smart and resourceful. He could do this.

To remain an anonymous student he’d opted to go to school in Boston where no one knew the Hale family. Boston, unfortunately, was extremely expensive to live in. He’d had to get creative to earn money. He did that by signing up for various odd jobs. In spite of his classical tastes he didn’t live in an apartment which showed that. At least not in Boston. Back in Beacon Hills, he had his own Penthouse.

Here in Boston he made do with a small yet tidy studio and an economic living. He didn’t try to make a lot of friends because it felt like a lie. He had classmates he talked to and people he knew at work but he didn’t hang out with a lot of people. They didn’t understand his basic nature, anyway. He was a werewolf who already had a pack. There was no point in establishing bonds in Boston.

So that is why he, an extremely wealthy young man, got off the bus stop in a section of town he wouldn’t normally have visited. The artist was obviously well off living in a loft in this section of town. Still, a job was a job and he made a lot of money doing this. He cleared his throat and knocked on the door.

He was met by a tall woman in her late thirties. She wore a black turtle neck and tight fitting jeans. Beautiful, in an unconventional way with striking short cropped red hair. What was most disconcerting was not her beauty but the way her eyes kind of bored into him. It unnerved him because it felt like she saw everything he kept carefully hidden. Literally everything. It was as if she even knew he was werewolf. For a moment there he almost left.

She slid open the door of the loft and stepped to the side. “Chris!” She shouted sharply. Her tone was familiar and yet cold at the same time. He had the strangest feeling this woman incredibly good at hiding emotion.

The loft was huge and definitely an artist’s sanctuary. High windows, an open layout littered with easels. Some with finished paintings, others blank canvases. There were paintings on the walls and stacked up against them. It was beautiful work, professional. He was sure some of these paintings sold for thousands of dollars.  Some of them were familiar but he couldn’t quite remember the artist’s name. He’d just responded to an ad in the paper.

The woman had several paintings mounted on a moving rack. “I’m leaving! Your model is here.” She looked Peter up and down. “The fee we agreed upon is on the table with a little extra because he’s in a mood.”

“Ah you’re Ms Victoria Winters, the manager.” Peter smiled, friendly. “You did get my list of requirements, I presume. If he’s at all violent or invasive my fee is nonrefundable and I’m gone.”

“Yes, he won’t be, I assure you.” The red head’s tone was clipped but final. “Wait there, “Jordan” .” She indicated a leather couch. Of course his payment was in cash and he’d used an assumed name.  “He’ll call for you in when he’s ready.”

Peter took the money and sat down as instructed, it was nice to get off his feet. He’d been on the subway, standing and walking for about a mile. He checked his phone messages while the redhead left with her paintings. He assumed the room at the far end of the loft was where the man did his work. Music thudded from the room and made him slightly nauseous.  He didn’t like the kind of heavy metal tunes that the artist was playing. He preferred more classical music. It calmed the wolf inside. This sort of thing just aggravated the wolf. He grumbled a little, he didn’t like waiting. He had come on time. He at least brought his laptop so he could work on one of his papers. He was twenty-four years old and nearly done in Boston. This life would be over soon and he would be back to Beacon Hills, California. Back to his penthouse, back to his Ferrari, and back to his real life.

He was looking forward to it.

He did not count on the man who walked out. Admittedly, he should have done some research. Then he would have known he was in the studio of a famous artist. He would have known what he’d be coming face to face with.

Christopher Argent in the flesh, from one of the richest families in the world. He was a black sheep since he was an artist and not part of the family business, Argent Arms. Peter hadn’t really read that much on him. He regularly watched the news.

Peter swallowed audibly, unable to speak for a few moments. Even he, involved in business studies, knew who Christopher Argent was. He was famous for his haunting, beautiful work. It was very popular in Werewolf circles. His style was brilliant, a touch of macabre but in a beautiful touching way. The kind that made one want to search one’s soul. Not only that but he was breathtaking.

He knew Chris was in his early thirties and prided himself on being physically fit. Peter found his heart rate quickening just at the thought of what it would be like to touch those muscles revealed under the tank. He quickly closed his mouth because he knew it had been open in some shock.

“Sorry about the ad,” Chris smiled smoothly. “Couldn’t risk the possibility of someone showing up who was just here to fanboy or girl.

Peter could understand that, you had to be really careful these days. “No problem.” He smiled nonchalantly, quickly regaining control over himself. “I recognized your work the moment I came in.”

“Well, since you haven’t fainted I assume you’re capable of being in the presence of a celebrity. That’s good.” Chris laughed softly. “Come with me.”

Peter stood up and followed Chris through the counters of art supplies and entered the room. It was a large area with a couch and other assorted places for models to sit. There were larger windows letting light in and one open to let the smell of turpentine out. He was immensely grateful for this because most of the other painters he’d done this for hadn’t been as considerate. Also, it annoyed his sister.

There was also a privacy screen so that he could get undressed.

Chris’ jeans were old and worn and covered in paint splotches but that didn’t make them any less interesting. Especially the way they clung to his thighs and the thin material stretched out over them. He smiled and started mixing his pallet. “You can get undressed behind the screen, I’m sure you know what to do.”

He did know.

Peter tried not to swallow again or make it awkward. He fell back on his natural nonchalance. Fuck, the wolf was awake and that usually never happened. He fingered the leather necklace he wore that his nephew Derek had made him before he left for Boston. It helped channel his anxiety and keep him in control. He couldn’t help but imagine licking his way up one of those muscled thighs.

Fuck.

He stripped and willed his cock to settle down. As soon as he turned, he’d be fine. The wolf was never interested in human partners.

The job was to pose naked as a werewolf. It had never been an issue in the past. He assumed it would be the same this time. He shuddered and shifted once the last article of clothing was off. This is what Christopher Argent painted.

The Supernatural.

He strode into the room. He knew he was magnificent. He knew most other wolves paled in comparison to him. He was a Hale, natural born wolf from a long, majestic line. He slunk into the light. “How do you want me?” He licked his teeth as his eyes settled upon the human painter arrogantly.

Chris Argent looked momentarily out of sorts and for a gleeful minute Peter hoped it was because of him, but no, Argent had been looking at a text on his phone. The painter straightened and looked Peter over. Peter couldn’t believe the calm way he simply took in every detail of the wolf’s half-shift form. He had no fear. There was no racing heartbeat. He was simply calm and steady.

“There,” Chris indicated a spot. The artist came from behind the canvas and approached him. “I’m going to touch you to put you in the position I want. Is the wolf okay with this?”

The wolf was okay with anything Christopher Argent wanted to do. There was a scent in the room Peter wasn’t familiar with. His nose twitched and his ears felt a little warm. He nodded and let the man arrange him into a pose. The wolf had never allowed that before. Chris’ fingers were gentle and felt really good. The wolf wanted to roll over and let him scratch his belly.

But Peter had a strong will. He remained impassive outwardly and obeyed every direction.  This seemed to make the painter happy and Peter felt unreasonably pleased when he saw Chris smile. His eyes were so beautiful. So bright and sharp.

It took all of his self-control to completely ignore the wolf’s desires. It wasn’t that it was forbidden or he had any problems because Chris was male. He preferred men. He just didn’t want to be entangled. Not here in Boston. This wasn’t his life. So he refused to acknowledge that there were any currents between them.

He could remain still for a long time, one of his special abilities being able to be alone in his own mind. There were always things to think about and most recently his move back to California. He’d be very glad to be out of the snow. The two hours stretched on while he fought the wolf for control. He avoided looking directly at Chris Argent which was fine, this was a sideways portrait. Still, he could feel every stroke of Chris’ brush. It was excruciatingly difficult not to rumble contentedly.

He’d never felt like this. He’d never felt so content in the presence of a person that he could curl up at their feet. He’d never been aroused in wolf form before, but he was, and he was not inexperienced. He knew exactly what to do and how to please his partner. He wanted to whine and beg for real fingers not the ethereal illusion from brush strokes across the room.

He didn’t worry that Chris might not also like men. He could smell arousal from the man. And yet, that was suppressed as well. Professionalism, perhaps. God he felt euphoric, it was almost like he was on a high from some street drug.

“Do you have something in here? In the air?” Peter finally asked, nose twitching slightly. He’d know if Chris was lying.  
  
“No,” Chris shook his head. “Other than turpentine. Are you alright? Need a drink? I have raw meat in the fridge if you’re hungry.”  Apparently, he knew exactly what wolves liked which was, in itself, suspicious. Of course the public knew about the werewolves and other supernatural creatures but not how to please them and they were still not trusted. Not all of them were registered.

Peter shook his head, he had eaten before he came.

Thankfully Chris didn’t make small talk. He simply listened to music and painted. But by the time the session was over Peter was in such a state that he had a hard time thinking. So when Chris announced the session was over and grinned at him, Peter growled.

The werewolf stretched and gazed at the man. He met Chris’ eyes finally, looking for confirmation. Did he want this?

In response Chris just set his brush down and nodded. The painter pulled off his tank top and dropped his jeans. He was already barefoot so didn’t have to worry about shoes.

Peter chuckled and asked roughly.  “Do you let all the wolves have you or am I an experiment?”

“You’re something, alright.” Chris responded with a low confident chuckle. “If you don’t mind, I’m not going to call you by the name you gave us. I know it’s not yours.”

“Are you asking for it?” Peter wasn’t ever going to give it, he was just curious.

“No, this is one time only.”

Peter prowled up to him. He smelled the air around Chris and couldn’t help but grin with delight. It washed over him and he leaned in. “Do you want me to change?”

“No,” Chris shook his head. There was something a little defiant in his eyes but Peter could sense it wasn’t against him.

“I feel it’s only fair to warn you, I have a knot and this isn’t going to be gentle.” Peter trailed a long finger down Chris’ spine as he came up behind him. He managed to ensure that his claw did not hurt Chris as he did so. He had no idea what had come over him. Knotting a human? It was a bad idea. It would be that much harder to leave.

Chris laughed softly, “I’m aware, but I’m sure you’ll restrain yourself.”

“You have no idea what I’m like.” Peter was almost affronted. It felt like a challenge and he didn’t like it. He grazed his claws against Chris’ skin and the man shuddered but not with revulsion. It was turning him on, the pain. Peter smiled with delight. Chris was perfect, with his partially tattooed arm, his sharp eyes and his sinful yet powerful body. He was meant for this. He was meant to be a werewolf’s plaything. He could handle it, he even craved it. Peter felt himself wonder if this was a normal thing and Chris was just good at hiding the evidence. He wanted to be possessive, but what would the point of that be? He was going to leave soon. He was going back home.

“Stop talking and get on with it.” Chris said sharply.

He sounded distracted now which was slightly disconcerting for Peter. The wolf shrugged, “Okay. Do you have something?”

“Just do it.” Chris shook his head. “I like the pain. Use spit if you must.”

For some people, that was a thing. Peter knew. Everyone had their own different reasons for wanting to be hurt. It wasn’t something he wanted. He had no use for it but he was not averse to appeasing someone who did. For a werewolf it was the ideal situation. So he did as instructed, he used his own saliva.

He should not have been surprised that Chris wasn’t tight. He suspected the man had multiple lovers. Suspecting it didn’t make the wolf feel any better. The wolf still wanted to possess him, to own him. Peter wasn’t going to let the knot happen though. He’d hold on to his control until the end. He slid inside and filled Chris easier than he’d expected.

He realized then that Chris was already lubed. Maybe he expected this to happen?

Peter didn’t want to think about it because the longer he spent inside Chris’ ass the more he loved it. Shit, they hadn’t even kissed. There hadn’t been any mention of emotions. This wasn’t at all about him. Chris was just using him. Chris didn’t even know his real name. He should not get emotionally attached and he could not let the wolf knot the man. He could not. “So good,” he panted.

Chris was leaning against the counter where his art supplies were shaking from the force of Peter’s thrusts. His head bowed. His arm muscles tight against the strain of meeting Peter strength for strength.  He made little sounds of pleasure that spurred on the wolf.

Fuck he loved those sounds.

This was dangerous. It was maddening to know that Chris was not emotionally involved. Peter whined a little without meaning to.

“Claw me if you want to.” Chris panted.

Peter shook his head, he didn’t want to. If he drew blood the wolf would smell it and want more and more. He dug his claws in but didn’t puncture skin. He’d certainly leave bruises. The action caused Chris to come and he wanted to howl with pleasure. The scent made him a little dizzy and he kept moving. He was going to own Chris’ ass! No. No he wasn’t. This was just one time.

He hadn’t meant to bite Chris.

The moment the blood filled his mouth Peter lost control over the wolf. The site of the red liquid, the smell in his nostrils, the slight struggle. This only encouraged the wolf. The smell was now stamped in the Wolf’s memory, Chris’ scent and his blood. Eventually, Peter howled and came inside Chris, unable to stop the knot from popping.

Sometime later, he came to his senses and felt completely disoriented. Chris was underneath him and held fast in his arms, face against the floor. He was barely conscious.  “Fuck…” Peter gasped. He pulled out of Chris’ ass and the man remained where he was, eyes shut tight, breath ragged.

Peter’s gaze flicked to the back of Chris’ shoulder. The bite was clear as day. No. No, that didn’t happen. This didn’t happen. “I have to go.” Peter got to his feet. He had changed back into a man and gathered up his clothes.

Chris didn’t look at him. “Don’t worry about me. Just go.” The man sounded strained, exhausted but not hostile.

And so Peter took the money on the counter and left, feeling somehow cheated.

He never went back in spite of the fact that he’d signed up for six sessions. Since that night he’d managed to regain control of the wolf and settle himself down into a flurry of term papers and final exams. Luckily he’d never given his name.

Chris would never find him.

Two months later he left Boston for California.

**TBC** 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter returns to California. Laura tries to talk sense into him.  
> Chris and Victoria are on a plane.

Peter’s next few months were an extreme whirlwind. Finals, graduation and finally getting the satisfaction of his sister’s grudging agreement that he had won their bet. She was proud of him. Talia was many years older than Peter and had practically raised him herself. So her opinion was extremely important to him. He couldn’t wait to get back to his Penthouse. He missed his Ferrari and he was tired of eating student food. What’s more, he came out top of his class. He could have anything he wanted.

His life, unfortunately, was already mapped out for him. He was a Werewolf. Brother of the Alpha. His place was in Beacon Hills. He was their finest tracker and was expected to marry and produce more wolves. A duty he didn’t particularly relish not because he didn’t like children. He wasn’t capable because he was more interested in men than women.

The pack knew and accepted him for it but there was always a lingering doubt that they really did respect him.  Talia had three children. His cousins had children. He didn’t need to build a family. He wasn’t lonely. For the past four years he’d been living with roommates and he was done. He wanted alone time. He wanted his own space. He didn’t want to think about anything else but packing up his things.

His favorite niece, Laura, had helped him move. She was super excited that he came back to California and helped him donate and toss everything.  “Seriously, Peter you should have left everything back in Boston. None of this fits your apartment.” She’d been house sitting for him.

“I’ll probably get rid of it at some point.” Peter agreed.  The road sign to Beacon Hills was a blessing and he sighed in content. “The air smells different already. I can smell the Pacific.” Even though it was miles away and would take a few hours’ drive to get to still. It felt like he was home.

Yet something was off. His wolf was unhappy and had hid away for a while with his tail between his legs. It should feel like a triumph, coming home after being away so long. He’d won, he’d proved himself and yet he wanted nothing more than to run back to Boston.

Peter grimaced. He’d put that behind him. Every time the thought tried to manifest in his mind he forced it back to the dark recesses of his brain and he refused to let the wolf cry.  He forced a smile which made Laura side-eye him.

“What’s wrong with your wolf?” She asked suspiciously. Laura was Alpha in training, she knew when to know someone was struggling inwardly. Especially when the wolf was involved. It was very important to keep control of the wolf.

“Nothing,” Peter snapped. He didn’t want to think about it. He hadn’t even dealt with the situation at all. He’d simply ran. Luckily Chris had no idea what his real last name was and Peter was a very common name. He didn’t even know which University Peter went to.  All he had was a Gmail address that Peter had deactivated. He knew Chris was looking for him. He heard from the contact he’d used to try and get work. Needless to say that contact address and mail was dropped too.  Unfortunately it was probably only a matter of time Chris would find him if he really tried. There weren’t that many werewolf families in the world.

“It’s not nothing.” Laura pursed her lips. “Your wolf is very upset. It’s not good, he could lash out Peter. What happened?”

“I…” Peter shuddered. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He shook his head and focused on the road.

“You didn’t hurt anyone, did you?” Laura frowned. In the past, Peter had had difficulty controlling his wolf. It had led to many unfortunate altercations the family had to deal with.

Peter’s jaw tensed which was a very definitely tell that he did.

“Oh, Peter…” Laura sighed. “How bad was it?”

Peter pulled into his apartment building a feeling of relief washing over him. He was about to enter his den and be able to curl up and relax. “I bit him.”  He said with a sigh. He could never really hold out talking to Laura for long. She had a way of pulling things out of him.

“What do you mean, exactly?” Laura frowned. “Bit who?”

“Christopher Argent.” Peter spoke the name aloud for the first time.

Laura stared. “Wait, _the_ Christopher Argent? The Artist? That Argent? And what do you mean by bite? Did you nip him? Actual….oh my god.” Laura lifted her hand to her mouth. “You mate-bit him.”

Peter snarled, he hated how easily Laura could read him.

“When did you get the chance to get to know Christopher Argent well enough to Mate-bite him? You weren’t studying art. Why didn’t you ever say anything? I have so many questions.”

Peter turned off the old car as they parked in the parking lot. His Ferrari was taking up his parking space. He’d be glad to finally ditch it the piece of junk. He’d already asked for someone to come tow it tomorrow. He sighed. “It was one time, I got carried away and I never went back. It’s not like it was something that wouldn’t heal. He’s fine.”

Laura opened and closed her mouth. “Oh, Peter…” She reached over to touch his shoulder. “You’re not.  You do know you can only mate-bite one person. As long as they live your wolf won’t want to be with anyone else.”

“My wolf got me into this mess.” Peter muttered. “It meant nothing to Argent. It was just a fuck to him. From what I’ve heard the man probably has more lovers than there are days in a month. There’s no point in crawling back to him because my wolf can’t control himself. He’d just laugh at me.”

“I’m sure, given who his family are, he probably knows what a bite during sex with a werewolf means.”  Laura frowned. “Do you want me to contact him? I can find out.”

“NO.” Peter slammed his way out of the car and grabbed one of his boxes. “He doesn’t know my last name. Only my first name. We barely know each other, Laura. Besides, I’m not going back to Boston. My life is here.”

“That’s not how this works. The wolf knows. He’ll never be the same. You HAVE to do something about this.” Laura stressed as she helped carry stuff with him to the elevator. “Your apartment is just as you left it. I know what a neat freak you are. No parties, no one else but me or family here.”  
  
“Thank you,” Peter nodded. Laura was the only person he could have trusted with it. She knew how fastidious he was. She would have taken pictures and made sure everything was exactly as he left it. “I don’t want anyone else in the family to know about what happened in Boston.”

“You know Talia’s going to parade you like a conquering hero.” Laura laughed drily. “She’s going to throw eligible bachelors at you left and right.”

Peter groaned. “I know.”

“And Peter? You know what also is going to happen. It’ll be on social news.”

Which meant of course Argent will find him that much faster if he was still looking. “Fuck.” Peter opened up his apartment door and welcomed the smells of home.

“So he _is_ looking for you.” Laura laughed softly. She knew her uncle well.  

“Yeah.” Peter nodded. “Don’t do anything. I mean it!” He growled at Laura.

“Of course not, I know you better than to mess around in your life.”  Laura did know better. She was one of the few people he could trust with anything. “But if you want me to. Just say the word. Welcome home, Uncle Peter.”

She hugged him tightly and he held her. He tried not to cry.

*

Chris Argent downed his drink and looked out the window of the first class seat. He was studiously ignoring his manager Victoria Smyth who was reading off a list of activities he was scheduled for. There was only one reason he had agreed to fly out to California, however.

“Are you listening to me?” Victoria asked irritably. She knew what happened with the student werewolf. She knew that piece was going to be the star attraction of his exhibit in the San Francisco Art Show. San Fransisco being a popular area for Werewolves to frequent.  She also knew Chris hadn’t been the same since and wondered how he could have completed the life-sized portrait in one sitting. 

Chris flexed his hands. He knew exactly how much time had passed since that whole debacle. The knot, the bite and the dreams that followed. Dark, sinful dreams. The wolf visited him during that time, deep in the night. It was always a dream though they felt so real. It was always just the wolf, though. Never the man. The wolf didn’t like it when there were other men and the dreams got darker if he sense that happened. Chris stopped hooking up all together after the first few times he’d woken up drenched in sweat and phantom wounds and a spent cock.  He was never sure if any of those encounters were real.

He knew what it meant. A wolf had claimed him and there was pretty much nothing he could about it except to find Peter and make him renounce his claim in front of his pack. The annoying part was that he wasn’t sure he wanted that. He’d never been able to stop thinking about Peter. He’d never seen a man that beautiful in his life and he was an artist. He was around models and celebrities all the time. His intensity is what had rattled Chris. Eyes so fiercely blue that he had felt shaken to the core.

Those nights with the wolf.

Chris shuddered. The wolf was especially capable of doing things to him that no one else could. The pain and pleasure that resulted made him wake up crying at times. If it had just been a few nights, Chris might have been able to write it off but that wasn’t the case. It was every night.  The wolf seemed to want to protect its territory even if his actual physical form didn’t show up. Whatever part of the world Chris was in, the wolf would show up. He couldn’t escape him.

And it was like a drug.

Chris started to crave it. He would have sleepless nights, hoping the wolf was actually real. He’d go into crazy binge drinking to try and regain sanity but none of it was working. He’d expected Peter to show up by now in person, to fix what he had broken. But he hadn’t. Now there was only one way to find him and that was the exhibit. He had two pieces to display. One the wolf. And one the man and the wolf. They were blazed into his mind and he could have drawn both of them a thousand times.  He shook slightly. It would be a long flight and he was already suffering withdrawal. This was the reason for the drink.

He looked at Victoria. “Not really.” He admitted.

“Someone there is going to know him, Chris.” Victoria said gently.

“I hope so, I can’t take much more of this.”

“I know, it’s destroying you. When I get my hands on him, I think I’m going to kill him.” Victoria growled.

In this world, once a Werewolf bit you a connection was firmly established. A bond.  Depending on the strength of the connection it could extend into the subconscious. Chris had never truly believed in the nonsense his father spouted about wolves and yet… here he was. It wasn’t often that wolves could suppress the bond but somehow Peter must be doing it.

It could only mean he was incredibly stubborn.

Chris sighed.  He could handle stubborn.  He looked back out the window and into the setting sun.

_I’m going to find you._

 

**TBC** 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night of thrilling reveals!  
> *Chapter was slightly edited at the end. It's different than what was originally posted for this chapter.*

Peter had been home less than a week and he was already climbing the walls. Boston was a bustling, busy city. Beacon Hills was not. He didn’t remember being this bored here before but that’s the way of things. What’s more, he was avoiding his family and some had started to notice. He hadn’t been idle for the past four years of his life and it was disconcerting. He needed to do something. He couldn’t spend the rest of it just doing nothing. He didn’t need money, he didn’t need a job. But he wanted one. He wanted one desperately. If only to take his mind off of what happened in Boston.

Once he got home and he had time on his hands, Peter started to think about it more and more and he began to get irritated. What was worse his sister was talking about an Art Gala in San Fransisco she was going to. She had asked Peter to accompany her and he had said yes immediately because it was a big city and he missed that. Then he saw the Celebrity Guest list.

There was his name, clear as day.

Christopher Argent.

No wonder Talia wanted to go. She had several of his works. Peter sighed and ran his hand through his hair. They had VIP tickets and he’d be forced to interact. What’s worse, Chris would _see_ him. He’d be in a 2000.00 Italian suit with a new haircut and shave. Maybe he wouldn’t recognize him without a beard. Peter scowled. He wasn’t afraid of a painter. He was more afraid of what the wolf might make him do. So far he’d succeeded at keeping the wolf from taking any control. He knew he’d have to be careful.

Peter of course had no idea what the wolf had been up to at night. It hadn’t occurred to him to be curious why he hadn’t been seeking any companionship since that night. No sex either. He’d been too preoccupied with finals.

He had already told Talia he was going with her so there was nothing for it. He, Laura, Talia and Derek would attend the gala. The Hales always went to these things. They were important for the Werewolf community. There were so few old packs. The Old packs were in charge of the past, maintaining the order of the present and keeping control of the werewolves of California. The new packs were smaller and less well managed. Their Alphas less powerful than people like Talia. There were new laws. Werewolves were a minority and had rights. They were the gate keepers of the supernatural and tended to help law enforcement in maintaining control.

They were the top of the food chain when it came to predators.  There were other dangerous creatures in the world, but a pack of werewolves working together with one or two other creatures, that’s what kept order in the world. Peter set down his drink. It was going to be an interesting night one way or the other. There wasn’t anything he could do to get out of it.

Werewolves didn’t get sick.

So he waited until it was time to leave and went down to join Talia in the limo. Laura was there too as well as Derek. It had been a while since he’d seen his generally silent nephew. Derek didn’t like socializing which was the opposite of himself and Laura. “You all look great.” He approved. “Derek, it’s been a while.” He reached over to squeeze Derek’s shoulder affectionately and settled in. “So how long are we committed for?”

“Brother dear, we will be staying as long as we will be staying.” Talia laughed softly. “And you look very handsome.”

Laura exchanged an amused look at Peter. “Did you see the Guest List?” She asked her uncle.

“I did, as a matter of fact.” Peter smirked. He knew exactly what she was getting at.

“Plenty of famous names, including that one you like Mother. What’s his name? Chris Argent?” Laura grinned at the way Peter’s lips compressed. That definitely indicated his displeasure of the subject.

“I know!” Talia gushed. “I can’t wait to meet him. He’ll have several new pieces on display and I’ve brought my checkbook.” Her eyebrows waggled. “Just the thing for the new wing on the house that’s almost finished.”

“More space?” Peter stared. “You have enough room for an army already.” He rolled his eyes and knew he hadn’t been out to the pack house yet since he got back. He was meant to go that weekend. He wasn’t ready for pack things just yet. He’d been on his own a long time.  That was partially why he was able to suppress the wolf so well.

The closer he got to San Fransisco though, the faster he went through the liquor flask he’d brought with him. Since it was laced lightly with wolfsbane he could get a little drunk.

“Maybe you should stop with that.” Laura suggested gently.

Talia was on the phone and Derek was texting someone named Stiles. Peter couldn’t figure out too much more about that because Derek had glared viciously at him when he tried. He’d eventually find out, he was sure. He gave Derek a smug grin and ignored Laura’s comment. He was starting to feel excited and he wasn’t entirely sure why.

Talia finally put her phone down when the pulled up to the hotel. “What the heck is wrong with you? I’ve never seen you so nervous.”

“I’m not nervous.” Peter growled.

Laura gave him another sidelong look as if to say you’re _full of shit_ and he was.

“We’ll talk about this later. But for now, put on your smiles. We’ve got to show people the Hale Family is strong and in control. She smiled brightly and patted Peter’s knee.

Then the limo doors were opening and there were bright lights and flashes and reporters. Peter smiled dutifully, charmed and answered without giving too much away about his return. The nightlife of Northern California had missed the dashing young millionaire.

It was easy to fall back into the show of being Peter Hale in spite of the dread building up inside. His stomach lurched a little and he felt queasy. Why couldn’t he get control? After a few minutes inside he had to excuse himself to go quickly go to the washroom. Laura looked after him in concern but the growing crowd forced her to stay with her mother.

Peter managed to escape to a nearby VIP restroom and leaned heavily on the counter. His fingers shook.  The liquor in his flask didn’t help in the slightest. He was alone inside as he splashed some cold water on his face and loosened his tie.

Jesus it was hot.

His whole body buzzed with excitement as much as he was trying unsuccessfully to pretend he didn’t give two shits about what he’d left behind in Boston. It should be this bad. It shouldn’t be this _intense._ It was almost as if he had already bonded with the man or something. But he couldn’t have. He hadn’t seen him since. He looked up and in the mirror.

“What have you done?” Peter searched his own eyes, trying to reach the wolf within. Ever since that night the wolf had been almost impossible to reach. He was angry, hurt and confused that the man had simply walked away from a _claim_.  Normally he had a great relationship with the beast within. He was in complete control, usually. But lately, even shifting was hard to manage. It was almost like the wolf was trying to punish him.  

No, that wasn’t it.

He washed his hands. The wolf couldn’t hide it from him forever. Eventually the memories would surface. After the gala, the very next thing Peter was going to do was get control back over his wolf. It was dangerous otherwise. “Stop pining over a fucking human you barely know.” Peter snarled at himself in the mirror. He exhaled, gratified.

Back out he went into the crowd, confident again. The Art Gallery was a grand venue with everything the world of the filthy rich could possibly need to get them through the evening. It didn’t take long to find a stronger drink.

Normally he would drift through the crowd, pick someone up, maybe two people and entertain himself by flirting outrageously. Not today though, today he was trying to keep to the sidelines. He didn’t want to be noticed. He didn’t want attention. He nibbled on some hors d’oeurves and watched his sister smooth talk local politicians. His nephew was somewhere against a wall, still texting that Stiles person. And he hadn’t seen Chris Argent, either on purpose or accidently.

He knew Chris was there though.

He _knew._ His wolf forced him to keep moving. He _wanted_. God, it was itching at the back of his mind, this desperate need. He could barely focus. He could _smell_ him. A lingering scent here and there. Chris had just walked by or someone carried a glass that Chris had held in his hands. He was _here_ and it was all Peter could do to not search for him.

The crowd quieted down until all he could hear were their beating hearts and clamoring to get a better view of the stage and the unveiling of Chris Argent’s six new pieces. They would go for auction later that night. He was thankful for the bright lights that made him squint slightly and look away from the stage. He was thankful that his sister hadn’t called him back over yet. He ignored a text from Laura and hung back near a window.

As soon as he was getting used to the quieter room and felt a little calmer, he heard Chris’ voice from the stage. Peter slowly lifted up his head. Chris was talking about the tour in Europe he’d been on.  But god, did he look amazing. Out of his loft, Chris cleaned up nicely. He showed style in the suit he wore that brought out the sharp blue of his eyes. His tie was perfectly even and he had a cream colored shirt. He was a little slimmer than Peter remembered but the suit didn’t just hang on him. It was a close-fitting suit and flowed over him like a second skin revealing his lean, tightly muscled body to its advantage.

He was talking, but Peter couldn’t hear a word. He focused on Chris’ lips, and noticed they were slightly bruised from what might be nervous biting. A beard dusted his cheeks and chin and his dark blonde hair curled slightly at the top of his head. Chris’ voice wasn’t something he’d been much exposed to when they met but it was somehow familiar and beautiful. He spoke with a sensual quality that made Peter feel warm and cozy like a blanket had just draped around his shoulders. His eyes were slightly tired, possibly due to jet-lag.

Or something else.

Peter’s fist clenched involuntarily even though it was none of his business who Chris saw at night. It should be though. He felt an irrational urge to lay down his claim in front of all the wolves he knew were in attendance. That right there?

He’s _mine_.

He inhaled, trying to get Chris’ scent from across the room into his nostrils. God, he was beautiful. He didn’t realize it, but Laura was looking in his direction from nearer to the stage where she and his sister was. Another text he ignored.

The woman he’d met, Victoria. She was standing awfully close to the artist. He knew they weren’t a thing but he’d heard about the number of lovers Argent had. He couldn’t possibly have given up them all. The idea of it made him want to claw his own face off and Peter pushed the thought clearly out of his head. He had no rights to Chris Argent.

He’d walked away.

Then applause, and more talking happened as the woman spoke about the pieces and what they were starting for as Chris pulled the sheets off.

And Peter froze, the blood rushed to his ears and he was finding it difficult to breathe. The life-sized portraits were absolutely breathtaking. Six pieces of haunting elegance. One dragon looping around a wolf. A dancing woman in dark flames. A forest twined around a decayed city. A battle between the elements of water and wind and finally the last two.

Peter swallowed.

How?

One was a wolf. A werewolf in all his shifted glory, blood dripping from his claws. The wolf was huge and dark-brown almost black. He lay on a bed made of silk sheets and pillows rendered asunder with his claws. He held a spiked whip in one hand and there was a shadow of a man on a cross. The room was dark, illuminated only by the light of the fireplace and a full moon.

The other was the man. His back was turned to the viewer and only the side of his face could be seen. He was tall with thick, brown hair, swept back from his forehead. His eyes a brilliant, piercing blue. He stood at the window, looking back over his shoulder, claws extended. A beautiful, strong man, elegant and flawless.  Completely nude. His cock was tastefully hidden in a shadow but there if you looked closely. A roguish beard partially masked a jawline that could cut paper, but couldn’t hide his cheekbones.   

It was him.

A flush creeped up the back of his neck.

People _knew_ him here.

That was his wolf form. And how had Chris managed to paint him after only seeing him one night for a few hours? He started to back away before anyone noticed and recognized the person in the portrait was him. More texts from Laura.

If he had been paying attention he would have seen the hopeful expression in Chris’ eyes as the artist scanned the crowd.

He was more concerned with getting the hell out of there and figuring out what had happened. A low growl stopped him.

The wolf wouldn’t let him leave.

Then Chris spoke again. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he? Almost perfect. I was sad when I finished the piece but delighted to be able to show this work for your pleasure.”  There was a slight tremor to his voice. “I’m afraid these two are not for sale. Just on display tonight only.”

Disappointment tittered through the crowd but it was the Artist’s choice.

“It’s so detailed it’s almost as if he knows every inch of that wolf.”

Peter heard someone nearby remark.

Ten minutes or so after Chris’ speech Peter started to feel eyes lingering in his direction. Then the whispers started. Peter practically threw his empty drink down on a table. He needed to get the hell out of there. The wolf was having none of it though. He would not let Peter leave.

“Peter!” He heard Talia’s sharp voice cut through the whispering. He stopped in his tracks, back turned.

She was coming towards him and she wasn’t alone. Blood rushed in his ears. He felt faint which was ridiculous because he was a wolf. But a familiar smell was drifting his way. A smell he longed for. The wolf howled with excitement inside him. He clenched his fists. The room swam.

He turned around, barely able to focus.

And there he was. Talia’s arm was linked with Argent’s. “Chris, I would love for you to meet my younger brother, Peter Hale. He just returned to us from Boston. Though from what I can tell from your lovely work, I gather you two have already met. How delightful. My brother is full of surprises. Did you know, he graduated top of his class.”

The gushing words did nothing to calm the impact on his soul at being too close to the object of his lust. All he had to do was deny it. All he had to do was declare he barely knew Argent and it was all very nice. Public denial of any bond or contact between them that was less than professional.

He was fully prepared to deliver a complete set down and then Argent lifted his eyes.

They were filled with pain, hope and anxiety. “Hello Peter,” Chris cleared his throat, a slight twitch to a vein the only betrayal of how much he was holding in. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Peter wanted to respond with something flippant but everything he could think of died in his throat and he did the most embarrassing thing he had ever done in his life. In front of a whole room of people. People who knew him, people who didn’t … and his family. His Alpha.

Chris had found him, and had come to claim _him_.

He didn’t know why or how but suddenly he was baring his throat.  There was a sharp intake of breath from his sister and a giggle from Laura.

Chris exhaled and dislodged his arm from under Talia’s. He strode the two paces necessary to close the distance between them and reached up to touch Peter's cheek. Apparently more confident than he looked. 

Peter stood there and let him, much to Talia's surprised. 

Chris’ fingers carded through his hair and Peter sighed, fighting the urge to lean into the man. 

“Yes,” Peter glanced at his stunned sister.  “We've met and I'm clearly missing something." He looked at Chris with a frown. 

Laura looked like she wanted to nudge her uncle. 

"What? It was one time. Why is he looking at me like we're married or something." Peter wanted to know.

Chris paled and stepped back. "You don't know? Excuse me," he looked at Talia. The look on his face was as if someone had punched him in the gut. "I need to go. I apologize if I upset your evening." 

He turned and started to walk away.

"Peter, go after him!" Laura hissed.

Peter almost fought the urge but he sighed because the wolf was whining at him. "Fine. Chris, wait..."

He followed Chris out of the crowded ballroom.

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. Peter wants more. Who am I to deny him?

Stifling a groan, because he knew he'd fucked up, Peter stopped just as Chris turned and watched him approach.

“I don’t have anything to say to you.” Chris exhaled and lifted his eyes. They were cold.

Peter ran a hand through his hair, aware they’d just left a crowded room behind and he had basically trampled the other man’s feelings into the ground. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”  He knew he had royally screwed up.

“I’d rather not be alone with you.” Chris shook his head. He didn’t trust Peter.

That hurt, Peter’s wolf wanted him to get down on his knees and beg forgiveness. “I don’t know why you’re angry. We had one night, and you’re not exactly a man who lacks partners.”

Chris stared at him and rubbed his face. “It wasn’t one night and fuck you.”

“What are you talking about?” Peter had no idea why Chris was so angry.

“Every night, Peter _Hale_. Every fucking night since that day you showed up in my studio. I haven’t slept properly in over three months.” Chris folded his arms. “Your wolf shows up. It doesn’t matter where I am. He comes.”

Peter’s eyes went wide. “What? That’s impossible! I would remember.  Are you sure it was me?”

“Do you deny that’s you?” Chris jutted his finger out at the paintings on the sage. “You dare deny what you’ve done?”

Peter’s wolf chose at that moment to make it quite plain that Chris wasn’t lying, sending some flashing memories that had Peter stagger back for a moment.

Chris was immediately concerned in spite of his anger and steadied him. Realizing they had an audience, he sighed. “Come with me.”  He ignored Talia Hale’s protests and took Peter by the arm.   
  
Peter felt himself sway and had never been this out of control before. He felt like his legs were going to cave in.

Chris just supported him and slipped his arm around his waist. “You’re okay, I’ve got you. Come on.”

Peter whined, there were cameras flashing, they were in public and he just wanted to curl up. Too many memories were swirling around in his head.  
  
Talia was too far away to stop Chris from handling her brother in a very obviously possessive way. He took Peter to the lobby of the hotel, shielding him from cameras as much as he could. “Goddamned press.” He muttered.

Peter was unable to stop a low rumbling sound of pleasure and rested head on Chris’ shoulder. He was embarrassed to find himself clinging.

“Think I’d never find you? Hm?” Chris asked with a sigh. “Okay, what’s going on with you?” He reached up to run his hands through Peter’s hair and smooth it back. 

Peter hid his face against Chris’ shoulder. He just wanted to be alone. Alone with his mate. His face flushed. How had the wolf hid this from him all this time?

After what seemed like forever, Chris finally got Peter into a quiet, large suite and sat him down. He went to pour them a couple of drinks from the bar. “At least now I know why you didn’t give me your real last name.” Chris added a little extra kick to Peter’s drink to deal with Werewolf’s ability to resist the effects of alcohol. “I remember that you were ten when that fire happened, the year the hunters made a last stand trying to prove Werewolves couldn’t be embraced by society.  Several of your family died and no one ever caught who did it. You were the last one pulled out, had to heal for a while in the hospital if I recall correctly.  You were the subject of national interest, on TV. Something of a celebrity because you rescued your nieces and nephews. The poster child for werewolf civil rights.“

Peter looked anxious. He didn’t want to think about the fire. It could have all gone horribly wrong. He still had nightmares. “I-I was trying to make my own way in Boston. Kind of a bet with my sister.”

“There you go.” Chris sat down opposite as he gave him the drink. He smiled approvingly when Peter gulped it down.  “Good, that should help settle you down. So you were trying to prove yourself? That’s good. But it doesn’t explain why you mate bit me, knotted me and ran, or why your wolf visits me every night.”

“Every night?” Peter groaned.

Chris nodded.

“I’m … different.” Peter looked at his glass.

“I noticed. For what it is worth, I’m flattered that your wolf chose me.” Chris rolled a shoulder. “But what the hell was that in there?”

Peter couldn’t explain it, his tendency to avoid relationships. “The wolf has been hiding this from me. It was just a shock and knee jerk reaction.”

“So your default setting is asshole? Good to know.” Chris finished his own drink. “In any case, you know what you’ve done, right?”

“I know,” Peter looked away. “I’m sorry.”

“The media knows now too.” Chris ran a hand through his hair gently. “They’re going to have a field day because of who I am. We’re not getting out of this.”

Peter found himself curling up against Chris, much to his chagrin. “My wolf and I have had trouble communicating since the fire. It’s like we’re disjointed or something.”

“Fear is a powerful thing.” Chris said softly.

Peter loved the feel of Chris’ fingers in his hair.  “I’m not afraid.”

“I didn’t say that. I’m no psychologist but I think that you were traumatized enough that you were disjointed from your wolf, detached I mean. All the interviews, all that drama. For a ten year old? It’s amazing you got through it at all.” Chris stroked the back of his neck. “It sounds like you pushed the needs of the wolf away.”

Peter shrugged, he didn’t like delving into those feelings.

“Whatever your issues, your wolf chose me. There’s no undoing that.” Chris exhaled. “I never actually planned on getting married or being tied down to one person so we both have an issue. Your wolf won’t let go whatever you might want.”

“Are you suggesting we be a couple?” Peter was a little incredulous. “You hardly know me.”

“We already are, Peter. Your wolf has seen to that.” Chris noted dryly. “Now you just have to accept it. It was why I was trying to find you. I’ll have no peace until you do. Your wolf has decided I’m his mate. One way or another, we ARE a couple. We’ll have to figure it out. Press and everything.”

Peter was starting to feel better. Just being stroked by Chris was putting him into a relaxed state. “This is my fault.” He whined an apology. “I should have better control over my wolf.”

“Is this you apologizing?” Chris laughed softly. “You’re not very good at it. So, are we in agreement?”

“Yes,” Peter sighed. Chris was right, there was no way around this. “I owe you that much. Maybe my wolf will calm down if we start spending time together.”

“Listen,” Chris exhaled. “What I experienced in those dreams was real. It left me exhausted. I felt it in my body just as much as I felt it in my mind. I’m just not so sure you’re into what I am into. Your wolf certainly didn’t have any issues but I don’t expect it from you.”

“What do you mean?” Peter wondered, looking up from Chris’ lap.

“I mean that I’m into pain, Peter.” Chris explained slowly. “I don’t really get off unless someone’s hurting me. Anything else just doesn’t do it for me. Your wolf had no issues with giving me what I wanted but that was in dreams.”

“I’ve never actually done anything like that.” Peter admitted. He was a little creeped out when he sat back up. “I don’t know if I’d be any good at that.” The wolf had gotten them both into it, so he would just have to swallow any reservations and figure it out.

“What do we tell your sister? I imagine she won’t be happy when she finds out your mate is human.” Chris smiled lightly. He reached over to lay his hand on Peter’s thigh.

“You’re her favorite Artist. I think that will make up for the fact that you’re human.”

Peter looked down at Chris’ hand on his thigh. As a rule he wasn’t a person who shared and cared. He bottled up his feelings, hence the situation with the wolf. He couldn’t deny his attraction to Chris. That was obvious. He was half hard just being in the man’s presence.

But they barely knew each other.

Strangely enough, the hand on his thigh was soothing. Peter exhaled, a bit unnerved.  After a moment he placed his hand over Chris’ and lined up their fingers. It was a herculean effort for him to curl his fingers between Chris’.

“You have to trust someone, Peter.” Chris encouraged him gently.  “Let’s help each other out, here.”

Peter’s phone chimed, it was Talia again. He glared at it but couldn’t feel any really anger. Oddly, being next to Chris made him feel calm. “I don’t deserve you.”

“I know,” Chris laughed, then looked surprised at himself. “Answer your phone. I’ll get us some more drinks.” He stood up and went to the mini bar so that Peter could talk to his sister.

The loss of contact left Peter feeling bereft. He answered the phone sharply.  “What?”

“What do you mean, _what?_ ” Talia huffed on the other line. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Peter watched Chris move towards the mini-bar. He had a perfect ass. It filled out the tight suit he was wearing very well.

“Where are you?” Talia was his Alpha, of course she was concerned.

“I’m with Chris Argent. We’re in his hotel room upstairs. I don’t think I’m going home with you guys.” Peter paused, “Am I?” he didn’t want to presume.

Chris nodded, “You’re staying here. Tell your sister my intentions are honorable and my manager will deal with the press.”

“She can hear you.” Peter smirked. “Well?” He asked Talia.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Peter?”

“Stop worrying, I’m fine.” Peter shushed her gently. “More than fine.” He accepted the refill from Chris and felt better as soon as he was within reach again.

 “Okay, call me tomorrow. I’ll send the limo.” Talia told him and hung up with a click.

“She practically raised me, sorry.” Peter explained to Chris with a soft laugh. “She thinks she’s my mother at times.”

“I’m not close to my sister.” Chris reached up to brush at a lock of hair that had gone astray on Peter’s forehead. For obvious reasons, he hated his family.

Peter felt the tension around them building. It was almost like every look, every touch was adding fuel to the flames. Chris was perfect. He was strong and confident. His eyes were clear and sharp, promising clarity when Peter was a chaotic mess.

He didn’t know what to say so instead he kissed Chris.

What he didn’t expect was the rush of need that suddenly washed over him, throwing his whole body into a state of want. It almost sent his him reeling. Chris’ lips tasted good, like honey, though that was probably the wine. It was sweet and he smelled like sunshine and the forest after the rain. Clean and pure. Peter shivered, every nerve ending was on fire.

“God…” Chris shuddered.

For years Peter had remained apart, bottling everything up. Talia had sent him to countless psychologists but nothing helped. When he went to Boston, he’d felt free for the first time in his life.   
  
Anonymous.

He’d been just some other guy on the street, just another student. Only the Dean of admissions was aware of his last name and Talia had paid him well for silence. He’d used their mother’s maiden name and that had kept the press off his trail and he spent a good four years being out of the spotlight.

Just being normal, and away from it all.

He was back to being Peter Hale again. Wealthy, handsome and the brother of one of the most powerful Alphas in the world. He was well known for his racy ways and fast life in the past. That was one of the ways he had dealt with what had happened.

The fire that had killed their parents.

Now suddenly, his feelings were on display again, accessible. He wasn’t alone anymore.

His first instinct was that of survival, but running wasn’t an option. He liked being kissed by Chris. He liked the feel of Chris’ lips on his, the taste of his tongue. He liked the way Chris’ beard teased his chin. His hands roamed, feeling muscles under the fabric of the man’s suit. He was tight, lean and solid and Peter wanted more.

Dreams were dreams and this was reality.

“I don’t know what you like,” Peter worried.

“This is good.” Chris laughed softly. “We’ll work up to that, darling. Your wolf had no issue, but you’re not him. We have to put you back together again first, don’t we?”

Peter nodded. “This helps.” He smiled ruefully. “You help. I have never felt this way before.”

“That’s a start.” Chris smiled back. “Why don’t we just sleep in the same bed tonight? Tomorrow’s going to be a rough day. I think you’ll feel better.”

“’I’d like that.” Peter nodded. The idea of doing things with Chris was tempting but they were practically strangers.  “Tell me about you?”  He followed Chris into the room.

Chris stripped down to his shorts and tank as he turned off the living area light and slipped into bed. “Not sure how awake I am for bedtime stories, but I’ll do my best.” He opened an arm, waiting.

Peter knew he didn’t deserve this.  He undressed awkwardly, feeling Chris’ eyes on him as he did and joined him in the bed. As a rule, he never slept with his lovers. This would be a first. To his surprise he didn’t feel the urge to hesitate and just simply cuddled up.

“Sleep, and I’ll tell you a story about a boy who didn’t want to be a soldier.” Chris kissed the top of Peter’s head.

It was easy to drift off under the lull of Chris’ warm voice and steady breath. Peter would notice things later but right now, his eyelids drooped and he let Chris manage him.

He’d deal with the world tomorrow.

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And i know it's short, but this story is finally finished. Thanks for reading!

When Peter woke up he felt amazing. He’d never slept so well in his life. He could smell good food in the hotel room. Someone had ordered room service. He was surrounded by Chris Argent’s scent. His wolf was happily reveling in it and he felt like rolling around in the sheets. He cracked an eye open and eyed the clock. It was almost noon. He laughed softly and rubbed his hands over his face. He’d really needed the sleep.

He pulled himself up into a seating position just as Chris came into the bedroom area with coffee clad freshly groomed and only in a pair of shorts. He was carrying a cup of coffee that smelled like the most delicious coffee in the world. Peter smiled, which was, in itself, a rare thing in the mornings. “Hi,” he took the coffee eagerly.

Chris sat cross-legged on the bed. He was fairly flexible, it appeared. “Good morning. Your sister called me four times. Not entirely sure how she got my number. Apparently she has connections. How did you sleep?”

“Really well.” Peter smiled, squashing a certain stupid wolf’s instant desire to be petted and touched. “You’ll get used to her.”

“Me too,” Chris smiled back and put his hand over Peter’s. “I suppose I will.”

It was awkward since they barely knew each other. Peter didn’t really know what to say or do. “I can’t move back to Boston.” The words rushed out of his lips before he could stop them.

“I can stay here for a while. We have an exhibits on the west coast scheduled for the season.” Chris took his hand away, not really sure what that meant. “We need to get to know each other. You know it’s a done deal, right? We have to work this out. I think it’s pretty clear that your wolf won’t let go of me and I don’t think I want him to.”

Peter looked up into Chris’ eyes. “You don’t? But I didn’t really give you a choice.”

Chris rubbed his temples. “We can go over that moot point all day or you can drink your coffee, have some breakfast and take a shower. Your sister sent up a change of clothes.”

Peter felt a bit like he was being managed and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

Then Chris reached over and brushed his fingers against Peter’s stubble. “It’s not a great situation. We’re two very different people and you know I’ve many lovers. And I---…” He couldn’t continue because Peter had set the coffee aside and lunged.

Peter flipped Chris over onto his back and hovered over him. “Had many lovers.” He corrected. His eyes flashed and his fangs slipped out briefly. He took several shaky breaths and forced himself under control. “Sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Chris wondered. “You know I like it rough.”

“You do, don’t you?” Peter gazed at him quizzically. He had no idea how all of that worked. Flashes of memory from the wolf’s nights in Chris’ dreams made him cringe. His eyes flicked down at a particular scar on Chris’ body.  One his claws had made. He was about to apologize but Chris put his finger on Peter’s lips.

“Don’t apologize. I wanted it.”

Peter traced the mark with his fingers. He leaned in so he could gently press his lips against the scar he was responsible for. “This, us. This is insane. But you know what’s even weirder?”  He searched Chris’ eyes.

“Hm, what?” Chris gave him a curious look.

“I trust it.” Peter smiled. “I know you know the wolf, but you don’t really know me, Christopher. I will be happy to do anything you want me to.”

“I can work with that.” Chris smiled with a little chuckle.

They had a long way to go, but at least they were on the same page now. Peter took Chris’s face in his hands and kissed him.

The wolf purred. It would get easier over time, but for now, for now he wanted to be a better man. He wanted to think of someone else besides himself for once. “What would you like me to do?” He asked.

“We’ll work up to it. When you really are ready.” It appeared that Chris was willing to do whatever he could to make Peter feel comfortable as well.

They had obligations, however. So they got up to get dressed and meet with Talia for negotiations, settlements and an eventual marriage contract.

Peter was sure of one thing, life would never be boring.

**FIN**


End file.
